Golden King, Gilded Reign
by Vader'sMistress
Summary: The new King of England promises a new dawn for his people. It will be a renewal of Camelot, with wonders never before experienced by the people and yet ... all this prosperity comes at a cost which is paid by his loved ones. In the end, is it all worth it?
1. Gold, Silver and Bronze Crowns

**Gold, Silver and Bronze Crowns**

Sometimes I wonder what life would have been like if my younger brother had been the one destined to wear the crown of St. Edward in my stead. I see the way he looks at Catherine. It worries me. When I think of the endless possibilities that could have arisen had I died on that fateful day I fell victim to the sweating sickness.

Brother Andre lost all hope for a recovery. He hurried to inform my parents of the grievous news. He nearly beat his horse to death to get to Greenwich. Much to everyone's shock, my parents' misery turned to joy. Shortly after my father lost all self-restraint and was comforted by my mother's soft promises of more offspring, another messenger arrived. Only his message was one of hope, and not of sorrow.

"The Prince lives." Three simple words. No more was needed to lift the monarchs' spirits. Church bells rang throughout all London. People from all over the realm drove in loads, bringing their family members and their neighbors, to Canterbury. It didn't matter if they came by foot, carts or riding wild beasts. Their devotion caught the attention of other Christian kingdoms who saw in my recovery, a dangerous weapon that would be use by my father to further bolster our claim.

They were partly right. And I say partly because it took my father less than two days for him to order pamphlets to be distributed on every town, starting in his homestead in Wales, that this was proof that the Tudors were on God's graces. I, as my namesake, was the prince who was promised. The one destined to bring a new golden age into England.

"Arthur is God's herald." One pamphlet read, while another ended with "he is of the blood of the dragon. He is the King who will bring us into a new age of Camelot."

Empty promises that meant nothing. I wish people weren't so blinded by prophecy. If it weren't for Catherine, I wouldn't have made it this far. I owe that woman everything. And yet, I can't bring myself to look at her as a husband should a wife.

* * *

Henry could. And that self-awareness irked Arthur. She was his Mentis, his muse; the voice of reason in a world filled with religious heresy and superstition. The 16th century was a time of great change. Everyone felt it. Men gossiped among themselves more than women. Who'd be the next King to fall? Kings were no longer infallible. Though for some, they still were. Those that thought this way, were deemed heretics. A King was only as infallible as God made him. And just as the good Lord through his chosen one on Earth, the vicar of Christ, who wore the triple crown, could make him, he could easily unmake him.

Henry thought it was a cruel jape of fate. Arthur on the other hand viewed things differently. He was the King who'd bring the fabled Camelot, was he not? Then why, he asked his top councilors, did he need the permission of an old Italian fart who'd never given two shits about his realm except when it was convenient to him?

* * *

"Your husband is threading on dangerous ground, Catalina." Harry told his sister Queen.

"Do not call me that."

"It is the truth. You know it. I know it. Everyone with a brain knows it. Why do you refuse to acknowledge what is in front of you? You have never remained silent when Arthur did something that went against Christian principles." He pointed out.

Catherine wasn't comfortable with Harry's f_amiliarity_. They had discussed it before_. Endless times now. Why must he insist? _

The Duke of York did not wait for her answer. He got closer until her back hit the wall covered by rich tapestries depicting the fall of man when Adam listened to Eve and partook from the forbidden fruit.  
"Sooner or later, questions will arise."

She grinned. "Courtiers are like vultures. They hover around dying animals then run like cowards when they discover their king is not the useful fool they thought him to be. Arthur is a good Christian King. You two studied from the same teachers; if anyone should be afraid of a Tudor breaking Church law they should be afraid of you."

"I've done my fair questioning but did the early church fathers not say that it is of the wise to question everything for only then can we uncover the true nature of our Lord and his son, our savior Jesus Christ?"

She chuckled. "You have a way with words, Harry. I see why my ladies fall for you every time."

He looked down at his feet, feeling ashamed.

"It is alright. I'm not ignorant to the ways of men. You forget I am the daughter of the greatest womanizer that ever ruled Spain. It's natural for young men to engage in trysts. I don't approve but it is in every man's nature."

"Not in this one. Your father was who he was. I was honored to have fought alongside him but Cat, I swear to you, if I were not marred by this sinful desire I have for you, I would not be in this predicament."

"Stop it. You're young, you can still choose from countless of the women throwing themselves at you or the eligible foreign brides who've heard of your sexual exploits-"

"Good God, exaggerate." Harry said, laughing at the wild stories that had been circulating about him. Not that he minded, it kept him away from being engaged with any of those uptight foreign royals whose looks and achievements fell short of Catherine's natural beauty and superlative grace.

Catherine ignored his minor interruption. "-and naturally, well … who can blame them for being so eager to marry the fabled Adonis, quite literally. The King of France's sister got angry when she found out you insulted her brother's envoys."

"Now speaking the truth is insulting? The woman has been married two times. She is a harpy. I've heard wilder tales about her than are being spread about me. All she cares about is power; when she found her daughter was near death, she was already planning for her replacement."

"Do not be so mean spirited, have pity. The woman has lost two children and two husbands, and on top of that, has had to contend with a bunch of greedy men who've always questioned her involvement in her brother's government."

"Pity? I pity the bloke who'll marry her who thankfully is not me." He sighed. "Why must we go on these rounds, you and me? Why can't we just admit our feelings and get over with it?"

"Because there is nothing to discuss. You are my brother-in-law. There is no us in this life or any other life." She was telling him to get over it but he couldn't. The more she pushed him away, the more his loins stirred when she was in his presence.

"Just once," Harry begged, grabbing her arm as she turned to leave. Before she protested, he pulled her to him. Their faces were so close that they could feel each other's breath. "Just once. And I promise you, I shall never bother you again."

_Just once._ She shouldn't but he had promised it was only once. **_Just once_**, and they'd never have to deal with this again. She'd be a liar to her heart if she said she hadn't thought about it, but a bigger liar to her entire being if she denied herself this pleasure.

Adultery was a sin_. Only when a woman gives herself fully to another man._ She wrestled with her mind. If this was so sinful, why did it feel so right? Why had her knees almost buckled when without giving it a second thought, she had given a quick nod and he immediately, without hesitation, pressed his lips against hers?

If this was a sin, let God damn her for all eternity because she wanted more than a lover's kiss.


	2. Untrustworthy Daughters of Eve

**Untrustworthy Daughters of Eve**

Do you want to know the ugly truth? Harry's not the arrogant lecher he thinks he is. I know. Big surprise but it is the sad truth. Harry, out of all the thorns I have had to pull from my backside, he's the one who's been hardest to get rid of. He's like a plague, everything in his path becomes corrupted.

The first time I found them together, I'm not ashamed to say that I felt enormous satisfaction. Watching my brother squirm in terror, yelling like a mad shrew, gave me more pleasure than soaking in the blood of my enemies.

As for my dearest wife, nothing brought me more joy than seeing her and my daughter-in-law plead with me to spare her and my brother from a traitor's death. To show how merciful I was, I answered their pleas.

**~o~**

Arthur's mercy however came at a high cost. His second daughter-in-law who had remained quiet out of love for her daughter and her husband's future crown, made a terrible bargain with Queen Catherine. To save her from the disgrace that would befall her and Harry, she convinced her to submit herself to the King's mercy and swear before God that from now on she'd be as her motto, a humble and obedient wife.

Catherine initially refused but Anne's strong words brought her to kneel before her lord and sovereign. "You've damned me." Catherine said, looking accusingly at Anne. The room she was in was luxurious like her previous apartments but less spacious. She had been reduced to a Queen solely dependent on her husband's grace, with less than four ladies to keep her company. All carefully selected by Arthur.

"You made your own bed. You should lie in it but that would shatter the foundations this monarchy stands on. The scandal would be too much for the king to handle."

"Or his son." Catherine added. She smirked at Anne. "Do you take me for a fool, daughter? You were in my service and before that, your mother and sister were. I knew that you were meant for more than being married off to some Irish Count to settle some land dispute between the Irish and the English. I entertained your ambitions because I saw in you a worthy suitor for my son and because it avoided me the pain of having to quarrel with my husband and Wolsey over their preferred match with that sickly French Princess."

Anne couldn't help but smile at that. "Some say I am more French than English."

"Some say the same thing about me. I am more English than Spanish. I don't care what the people say, neither did you." Catherine commented. "Were my son a dolt, I would have thought twice but as it happens he isn't but he lacks direction and like a seasoned commander, I gave him a skilled captain to stir him in the direction." She sat on the empty armchair facing Anne. "Sweet irony. Why are you truly here, Anne? Come to gloat some more?"

"Why would I do that when others can do it for me?" Anne answered. "I was never your enemy, Catherine. You gave me something that went beyond my wildest dreams. For that I'll always be grateful but do you remember what you told me when you convinced the King to make Elizabeth titles of her own?"

Catherine nodded. How could she not? Arthur was against it. It went against tradition but tradition had been broken many times in England. Had his grandmother and another distant female ancestor of his not been sole title holders? What about her friend, Margaret Pole? Was she not a Countess in her own right? If God would not grant Anne and William more heirs, than they needed to prepare Elizabeth for her future role and give her something that'd also make it clear to their subjects who would rule after her father. She was created Duchess of Richmond and Marquis of Pembroke. Both titles and land holdings were a call back to the titles that had been held by the first Tudor monarch, his mother and uncle.

_"Arise our little Margaret Beaufort."_ Arthur joked. Everyone joined them in laughter after Catherine added: "No, do not spoil this moment, you're going to make her cry. She deserves better. She is much prettier than nun Beaufort."  
It was one of the happiest moments of their marriage and of Catherine's life. It made her hopeful for the future.

_I should have never turned my back._ _It's when you least expect it _–her mother had told her-_ that those you trust the most, will stab you in the back._ Who knew that the one she needed to watch out for wasn't one of Harry's jealous ex-lovers, but her beloved daughter-in-law?

**_Ambition, thine stain thy heart._** Her father had written in a prayer book he'd sent to her, months before his death and her daughter's birth. That and other notes on the bottom of every prayer served as reminders of her childhood lessons when she accompanied her parents into the battle camp outside Granada. How ready I was._ Nothing could stop me. I was always on alert._

One simple mistake, too much trust, were all that was needed to brew the perfect tonic that sent he to her doom.

"I will never forget that day. I was so proud of what you and I had achieved. Lizzie looked like a little queen-in-waiting."

"She might not be, I said. But you assured me that if it was God's will, who was I to go against it? She hasn't stopped asking about you? She wonders why you've not written her back. If only it were so easy to put this behind us." Anne said.

"How do you propose we do it? Smile like two hypocrites while our eyes shoot daggers? While you look for other ways to undermine me so you can save yours and your husband's hides?"

"Elizabeth is too young to understand but one day she will, when she has a family of her own. Wouldn't you have done the same?"

"There are no do-overs in life so it is pointless to reminisce about what ifs. But if I am to entertain this hypothetical exercise of yours, no. I would never betray the woman who welcomed me into her abode."

She was a terrible liar. Such a crying shame. Years of political experience should have give her the training to convince her successor. But she was too proud to choose honesty, mix truth with lies with the person she felt hurt by the most.

After a long discussion, Anne said something that broke Catherine's stubborn shield. "I hoped that we could have gotten to some form of agreement. I care not for your opinion of me, Catherine. I meant every word I said to your women. Let the tongues of those who've hurt the crown be pierced by the thorns of the holy cross but for my daughter's sake, I came here in the spirit of friendship."

"Duly noted and duly given." Catherine said icily then turned to view the window. Outside her granddaughter Elizabeth was playing with her cousins and favorite aunt, Princess Mary. The two were like sisters. It made Catherine happy, knowing that Elizabeth had formed a bond with another strong minded girl.

"Lizzie loves her." Anne said knowing the laughter of their daughters had caught her attention. Catherine did not turn back to her. She did not need to. Her agreement was enough for her. "William and I have talked about having another child."

"You will. You two are still young. Young enough to give us a son to carry the Tudor name."

"Perhaps or perhaps not. Either way, we are happy. Lizzie is our axis mundi, with the right role models, she can become the greatest ruler England has ever seen, just like her Spanish namesake."

Catherine did not respond to that. Days passed and she was moved to Kimbolton. Arthur was isolating her from everything and everyone she loved. Last she heard from Harry, he had been released from the Tower and placed under house arrest in one of his less luxurious properties.

Arthur always thought of himself as the epitome of chilvary._ In the beginning he was._ But things had changed. He had become more ambitious and jealous. His jealousy had been too much for her to bear. She thought she was stronger than most women but she turned out to be just as weak as the first woman, Eve.

This was much her fault as it was Harry. She had made her bed. She had no choice but to lie in it and face the consequences. A part of her scolded her. It reminded her whose daughter she was, and that regardless of the sins she committed, she still had aces under her sleeve. _Are you going to let Arthur and his cronies beat you down? What happened to the girl who promised she would bow down to no one except for God?_

_**She's still here.**_

Her subconscience was right. She was beaten but not broken. How many times had the soldiers of God been defeated in battle but got back up on their feet, stronger and tougher than ever? Only God could judge her. If Arthur thought this gilded cage was enough to contain the raging beast within her, he was going to be sorely disappointed.


	3. Empty Promises

**Empty Promises, Dark Retributions**

I thought things would get easier over time. Catherine has not gone a day where she hasn't reminded me how much she's grown to despise me and no, it is not through her words. Thank God, I don't have to listen to her insufferable advice. Her presence alone is what does the trick.

When it comes to putting up a farce, my wife is an excellent actress. The best that ever lived. But when it comes to deceiving the iciest of heart, she fails miserably.

You can't win against God; that's the first lesson my mother taught my lord father when she showed him how far she'd go to protect her family, even from her own.

I will never forget how relieved she was when she saw me. I was her Godsend. Our ruthless ancestress had been conjured by the Woodville whores to cause harm to her enemies, God had saved me.

One simple word and she would have gone to hell, back to the realm from whence that water succubus ancestress of ours came from. But as it happens, I happened to take more after warring, level-headed Lancastrians than the drunken, vicious lechers Yorks male she admired so much.

Not a day goes by that I do not envision her standing before me, pleading for my brother's life. That would have been a sight to see. Alas! It's not meant to be. The permeation of Harry's petty threats will have to suffice to give me a good night sleep.

* * *

Arthur wasn't the only one basking in his brother's misery. Lord Lisle, who had been forced to presence his father and his companion's joint executions, was given the privilege of handing over the great seal of Lancaster to its new owner.

"You must be joking. What kind of sick, cruel jest is this? Has my brother not had his fun, turning me into this?"

"Quiet down, Your Grace. Our Majesty is a merciful lord."

"So merciful is he that he condemned his sister into perdition." Harry retorted. His finger pointed in the Viscount's direction. "There's been no viler, sycophantic, conniving piece of villainy than you. I should have done away with your entire lot."

"But you didn't and I have you to thank for my rise." John Dudley said. A sadistic smile danced on his lips. "Imagine that, the lowly son of a fiend. Tudors, too proud for your own good but too good for wily opportunists like me."

"Careful Dudley. The longer you keep a lion in a cage, the more fierce he becomes." Harry threatened.

Dudley's sadistic smile continued plastered on his face. Let the king's brother threaten him all he wanted. Dudley finally had the upper hand against one of Henry VII's line. No revenge in this world felt sweeter.

* * *

There was a recurring joke among the nobility. Kings who do whatever the hell they want ask more favors from their noble subjects while those that have virtual no power and dependent on how well they are liked by their subjects -all their subjects- act more conceited.

Kings who are masters and commanders of their realm are beholden to no one except for God. They do not need to ask their subjects permission for anything, unless they want to appear cooperative for the masses. The Tudor Dynasty were not only masters and commanders of their realm, they were also the lords of their own destiny. They refused to abide by the rules of man and God; regardless of what their rivals accused them of, nobody could deny their self-reliance and resilience.

Whatever obstacle come their way, they will overcome it. The blood of the dragon flows through their veins; they were the golden lions, the longed for princes that had been foretold since the times of Camelot. Like his namesake, Arthur II had everything perfectly planned.

His father uprooted the white rose and cut out the other weeds before they strangled him in his sleep. He was going to do the same.

Arthur was brought from his musings by his daughter. She was wearing a simpler gown in contrast to her older sister, but it was the same color, purple.

"Mary, your governess tells me you continue to excel in your music lessons."

"Yes, father. But I have come here to ask something out of you. You said that I could if I continued to make you proud and I do not need to be a scholar or quick-witted like Harold to know that I have for a long time."

Arthur smiled. "You are far too bold for your own good, daughter. Tell me then, what is it that you want?"

Mary took a step forward. She wasn't afraid of her request or what her father would say. She had mentally prepared herself for the displeasure it would bring him -and possibly her.

"My mother has been away for nearly a year. I wish to see her for the simple reason that I miss her."

_Straight to the chase._ Arthur wondered where she got that from. Catherine was direct but not THIS direct. He could be when he wanted, but he preferred tact, even when he was intimidating people. _Perhaps it's her Welsh and Spanish ancestors._ If she wasn't born a girl, he'd be proud to take her under his wing and turn her into a formidable warrior to defend her older brother when he became king.

Alas! One of God's cruelest jokes.

"Your mother is away for her own protection."

"It's been over a year since the outbreak of a plague and another May riot." Mary said. "People in the countryside shout her name whenever they see me and Matilda. 'Where is your mother?' They ask. 'Where is our Queen of Hearts, blessed Catherine?'"

Catherine. Catherine. Catherine. It's always Catherine. If his daughter could go one day without uttering her mother's name, he'd put himself through the humiliation that Henry II went through for Becket's murder.

The two are tethered to one another. It's infuriating. Time to take on the role of concerned, wounded husband.

He sighed. "I don't need to explain to you the details of what your mother did to me and this kingdom. She hurt me, Mary and I can't just forgive her out of want. Time heals all wounds and in this case, it is my wounds that need healing. If I welcome your mother back to court, I will leave myself open for attack. Half the court already suspects something's amiss; I don't want to give credence to their rumors and ammunitions to my enemies."

"But they are not just your enemies, they are ours too. I care about my family too, father. I want what's best for all of us." Mary said.

At first glance, she seemed insignificant. Semi cascading dark red hair, thin, petite figure. But the closer you look, you saw defiance in her eyes. Those dark grey pools of violent water revealed a rough interior. _I pity the poor man who's hooked by them_. He'd be completely won over or hell-bent on breaking free of their union. _And I would not blame him. _

"You can rescind her punishment. She needs to be back with her family. If we aren't seen as a family, than what good is it fighting our enemies when we are clearly fighting among ourselves?"

"You were born in the cold of winter, Mary. You have not been in the heat of political battle like your parents have. All you know is there is good and wrong, people we hate and people we love but when you get older, you'll see that things are far less simple than they appear to be."

"No. I do not believe that. You still love her." This took him aback. "It's not her betrayal that hurts you, it's the thought that she fell out of love with you."

"Of course I love her, she is my wife but she is also my queen and as my queen she has a big responsibility to me and my subjects. It's not just us she puts in danger with her affair, it is the entire realm. You and your siblings have been shielded from the outside world; you don't know how terrible it gets."

"Who better than to help you fight those terrors than the woman whose childhood was spent in battle camps, being educated by two of the belligerent monarchs in Christendom? I know you do not want to see her anytime soon but for the sake of your kingdom that you say you owe your allegiance to, bring her back so the sun can shine on the Tudor dynasty once again."

"You have a good way with words. If you were older, you'd sit next to me during privy council meetings." His mask fell. His face flashed a smile. A short-lived smile that was quickly replaced by seriousness. "Do you really want your mother back, Mary?"

"Yes." She said without thinking.

"I will think about it, daughter. Until then, let's not talk any more about this subject." Arthur commanded and like a good daughter, Mary obeyed.

Both could smell a lie a mile away; but whereas the king was deceptive, Mary was not. Blunt but also secretive, she lacked the political experience that his father had acquired at an early age and that came naturally to her older sister.

Arthur almost regretted lying to his daughter. **_Almost._** His wish to see his ambitions fulfilled outweighed his personal feelings.


	4. Wicked Delights, Unbreakable Alliances

**Wicked Delights & Unbreakable Alliances**

Faith is a funny thing. I used to believe that there could be such a thing as a loving, merciful God but then one day, I woke up. It was the first time that I saw things as they really were. They say hate the sin, not the sinner. I hate both. But I am grateful to my enemies. Without them, I would have never taken the blindfold off.

I would have still been wilfully blind. A blissful ignorant leading more lambs to the religious slaughterhouse.

Now I see. My heightened vision will aid me in my goal to lead me. It has already turned me into a better man, the shepherd I was always meant to be.

* * *

"Listen to me and listen to me well." Arthur told his daughter. "The Duchy of Bavaria holds no significance to us whatsoever but its ruler has a nephew who is a hero to Christendom. It will be up to you to curb his violent nature and turn him to our side. Do you understand?"

"Yes, father." Mary said, her eyes downcast.

"Can I count on you Mary to be my ambassador? Your mother was your grandfather's unofficial ambassador. I need you to be mine. You are the only one of your sisters who inherited both her both our Plantagenets' brains and charm." Arthur said. "Use this," he put one finger to her head then slid it down to her chest, "to rule over this. Don't let the Duke's nephew good looks cloud your judgment, use your brains to shield you from his swagger and tricks; Princes promises much but deliver nothing."

"Yes, father." Mary repeated, keeping her eyes lowered.

"Look at me."

Mary made eye contact with him. Dark grey orbs met violent blue ones. "Your mother's motto is "Not for my Crown." When we married she changed her name from Catalina to the English version of Catherine. She swore that she'd leave her Spain behind to give all of herself to her new land. Don't make her mistake. Be a Tudor first, a wife second. Be beholden to no one but your House."

"I shall, father. I swear I will make you proud. The future Duke will be our ally and his duchy will be our shield against your enemies."

"I have faith in you but …" he briefly paused. Turning away to face his greyhound, a gift from his treacherous brother and his best friend Charles Brandon as a meager attempt to win back his favor, he thought about when she had been born. It was a joyous occasion for his wife. A child of my own –she had written to him. She will be my joy and the pearl of your kingdom.  
It didn't take Arthur more than two seconds to figure out the true meaning behind her words. After he visited her, he snatched her from her nurse's arms following her baptism, and handed it to his sister Margaret who was staying with them at the time.  
Catherine never forgave him and for the first time in the marriage, he didn't care how she felt. It was then and there that he knew their marriage was over.  
Nature however proved to be stronger than nurture. Mary grew up to be a rabble-rouser, throwing the rule book out the window every time her nannies reminded her how, as the King's daughter and one of the most sought-for Princesses in Christendom, she had to act.  
_"My father is the King and the Tudors got to where they are by showing what they are made of. That is why God favored them. He favors the bold, not the indolent."_ –Had been her response to Master Vives, the last Humanist Arthur had hired as her tutor. Arthur's laughter made the Humanist more nervous. Poor Master Vives trembled before his sight. He apologized on behalf of his daughter but Arthur stopped him before he uttered more nonsense.  
_"Spoken like a Queen. My mother said the same thing to me when he caught me talking back to Father Bernard Andre."_ –Arthur told the man before he dismissed him for good. He congratulated his daughter on scaring off another one of those uptight learned college men. _"Empires will tremble before you my little warrior." Hearing_ her father's praise lifted her spirits. Mary wasn't afraid to talk back on her elders.  
She was, as far as she was concerned, born of a great lineage and meant for a great destiny. No obstacle was too impossible for her to overcome.

Marriage however was something she was wholly unprepared for. She knew that it was the duty of princesses to marry princes to forge alliances with far away kingdoms to strengthen their father's realm. But she had put it off as something that might never come. She was after all the runt of the litter, the chick who had hatched the last. Her brothers had married English women. If they could, surely she could too and if not, there was the option of joining a convent where she could spend the rest of her days studying and translating documents, using her knowledge to impress her elders who, seeing her true potential, would exploit her gifts and use her on a crusade or a figurehead like many of her favorite female fighting saints.  
Alas! Her dreams had turned to ash before she could set them in motion by her own father who, eager to place Spain and his puppet pope in checkmate, made an unholy alliance with the German league.

Coming from his thoughts, Arthur broke the silence at last. "Your grandparents placed strong conditions on my father in order to agree to my betrothal with your mother. Kill the pretender and my uncle or else, the wedding was off. My father knew what had to be done and he did it. My mother did not decry his decision; she loved him more for it. 'Now you are a King.' She turned to me and said 'that right there is your father, a King just like my father before him. If you want to keep your seat of power, you will do the same.'"

"It is easy for you to say, father. You are a man, I am a woman who will never rule. I will never get to have a castle of my own without owing it to my husband. I will simply be known as the future wife of His Grace of Bavaria."

Arthur chuckled at his youngest Princess' bravado. "You have still much to learn but you will learn. In time, when you're older and have given him more than one child, everything will come naturally to you."

Mary did not dare question him. Her father always knew what was best for them. He talked to her like he talked to no other members of their family, not even Matilda whose ego was the size of Cardinal Wolsey's premier homestead. Yet, she didn't trust him fully. Mary doubted that he did this solely out of love for her. My mother's betrayal has turned his heart into stone. Had her mother not acted the way she did, or been discovered, perhaps her dreams would have come true.

A warrior nun or a holy warrior like Joan of Arc.

"You can still go down in history as a fighting princess." Meg Douglas told her cousin when Mary returned to her chambers. Meg was there with their other friend, Ursula Pole. "Eleanor of Aquitaine accompanied her first husband to the crusades and so did that other Eleanor, wife of the First Edward."

"Neither of them did anything other than cheer for their husbands." Mary told them. She sank in her wooden arm chair. "I wanted to be known as the sword of God, like the angel Gabriel. Why doesn't this world let women defend the faithful? Women are also called to defend the faithful against the heathens. Why can't we answer that call like men do?"

"Because we are women and it also happens that if we die, the future of Christendom dies with us. Who will be left to give birth to future warriors or prepare them for the wars ahead? Let men fight with their shields and their swords, God has given us other weapons. Not all wars are fought in the battlefield." Meg said.

"Besides, shouldn't you be happy that you will get to lead alongside a warrior?" Meg added. "Who knows? You might get to see some action."

Mary hoped. Ursula said nothing that contributed to their conversation. She just kept nodding her head and said words of agreement every time Meg spoke.

* * *

Catherine poured herself another drink. Except for a few, she had dismissed all of her maids. She had grown tired of lesser women doing things for her.

"What will you do now?" Maria asked her.

"What can I do? Arthur will have his way. Every Tudor does. I pity, I truly do, the poor girl who is tied to Harry." Knowing Harry, he will probably scream from the top of his lungs how much he dislikes her, and if that doesn't work (which obviously won't) find other ways to make his displeasure evident.

"Your daughter is also being forced to tie the royal knot. Doesn't that anger you? Where is your sense of pride?"

"Do you really want to know? It died when Arthur turned me away for his greatest love: power. And my darling daughter-in-love," she smirked, "well, I can't blame her when I would have done the same. In that, she is right. When the King's time comes, may God bless him and grant him more years, she will make an excellent queen."

"She is a snake. A wolf in sheep's clothing."

"No, my loyal friend. She is a lioness. I rather I did not hate her for what she's done but I can't help myself. I do. But I prefer this hatred over one born of frustration, the kind that an acute mind such as myself feels over someone who's a crying ninny like that Fawcett girl my youngest son fawned over." Catherine said. "Queens need to have a grand appetite. As much as this hatred is destroying me, I also welcome it."

"You never cease to surprise me. Just when I think you have run out of things to shock me, you always come up with something new. There is a little flaw in your reasoning."

"Really? What is that?"

"Anne has had many pregnancies, none of them healthy boys, only daughters."

"My friend, if I didn't know how the cogs of your mind worked, I'd say you were egging me to nudge the ambitious bone of my younger son and his dutiful wife."

"Lord Parr's daughter is devoted to you as her mother, God keep her soul, was but she is more loyal to her principles. She'll never opt to serve two masters as you and Anne do, but your son on the other hand ..." Maria didn't finish her sentence. She had done her job, planting the seed of discord in her mistress' heart.

But Catherine disappointed her, quickly plucking that seed before it took root. "If I plunge this country into another civil war, I'll never forgive myself for it. Too much blood has been shed already for the whims of family." She told her friend.

The memory of the wars of the roses, that dreaded dynastic civil war between cousins that had raged for over three decades, was still fresh on everyone's minds. Catherine did not want to see history repeat itself. "Anne will be Queen and if God does not see fit to give England a male heir, then the Tudor Dynasty will have to settle for a Queen." Catherine said. Her tone of finality put an end to the discussion.

Maria pitied her friend. She had so much potential. Her lineage was more Lancastrian than her husband which, if she only had the will to do it, she could use to her advantage to rule in his stead. If it weren't for that big heart of yours, you'd be another Isabella or Ferdinand. An unstoppable Queen whose power would be so great, everyone will fear, love and respect you in that order.

* * *

Matilda found enjoinment in her new task. Watching her uncle squirm when he was told whom he'd marry brought her a joy unparalleled by the rebels her father had punished before a big audience at the beginning of summer.

She craved for vengeance as much as he. The thought that her baby sister would get married before her rankled her. She was the oldest. The privilege of marrying to another great House should be hers first! Life was so unfair. She had to settle with helping her father ruin his younger brother's life.

"She looks handsome." Matilda told her uncle, handing him back the miniature Master Holbein the Younger had painted of his German bride.

"I like her not." Henry spat, throwing the miniature to the fire.

"The feeling is mutual as far as her father is concerned. The King had to move mountains to get this alliance. Secretary Cromwell was all for it."

"Wolsey's worst mistake was allowing for that snivelling toad to infiltrate our midst. Who does your father think he is violating canon law?"

"Violating? Uncle, I must remind you that walls have ears. We should all be grateful. Other Kings would put their self interest about their country and family. As it happens, we are the best of the royal lot."

Henry scowled. "That rose petal doesn't deserve his crown. Sending his daughter to do his dirty laundry. If I were King ..." He stopped himself. What use was it to dwell on fantasies? His world was over. You are going to get married to that ugly mare and that's the end of it.

God damn his brother and his heretic councilors.

Matilda suppressed a smile. Her ladies were having a harder time containing themselves. After they were done spoiling the rest of the Duke of York's day and got back in the royal carriage, they burst into laughter.

Matilda almost felt sorry for the Cleves girl. "She's in for a wild ride." One of her ladies said.

"If she can ride at all." Matilda said. A wicked smile that matched her churlish tone danced on her face.

"Do German girls even know what hides between a man's legs before their wedding nights?"

"I highly doubt they do. The way that man's wife has kept her daughters under a tight leash, I will be surprised if she even knows what consummation is."

Her ladies laughed harder.

"He should be happy," Matilda went on to add, "any other man in this sorry island would. A woman who will keep her peace and do what her husband commands of her. He can run free and plow as many women as he pleases while she remains in bed, waiting for that baby to pop out of her."

The naughtiest and more experienced of her ladies, said a crude joke.

Their carriage stopped. They reached their destination. Sheriff Hutton, a small but still imposing Northern castle in Yorkshire which had been used by many Yorkist kings to keep a close watch on their captives. Now it was a base of operations for the Tudors.

"My uncle will get over it. And if he doesn't the buxom women accompanying his wife will." Matilda said when they went inside.

"Not if the ladies wear those big over-sized gowns like their mistress." Mistress Fillol pointed out.

"Your outspoken curiosity is going to be the death of you one day, Cat."

"It has been spelling my doom for years and yet I am still here, serving the King's prized jewel." Catherine Fillol said.

Matilda didn't want to tell her what she really thought. She enjoyed Catherine's company but she was a realist. She couldn't keep in her company a woman who had twice fooled around, cheated on her husband, one of her prized soldiers and servants, with his father of all people!

"We should create a tune. You sing it and I play it on their wedding night." Cat said.

"I dare not place myself in controversy." Seeing Cat and the rest of her ladies crestfallen look, the Princess went on to explain, "Believe me I do, but the last thing my father wants is to give my uncle more reason to complain, and ammunition to our enemies."

"The king of France cajoles with every woman in his wife's retinue and the emperor hides behinds his wife's skirts." Kitty Howard, the youngest of her ladies, said.

"This is England, not libertine France or virtue-signaling Spain. Our image must always be better. Our reputations, greater." Matilda pointed out.

"No fun." Kitty said.

"Worry not, ladies. When the wedding comes, we will have fun at their expense. And I promise you that the night after, we will thrill audiences, commons and nobles alike, that it will be whispered for centuries." Matilda said.


End file.
